


One Kiss, Two Kiss, Slow Kiss, Hot Kiss

by UnseenLibrarian



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-06
Updated: 2013-03-06
Packaged: 2017-12-04 12:02:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/710577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnseenLibrarian/pseuds/UnseenLibrarian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Malfoy likes Granger. He invites her to dine. Things keep going wrong. Will it all turn out fine?</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Kiss, Two Kiss, Slow Kiss, Hot Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> I wish to heartily thank Captainraychill and Dormiensa for their aid / without their support, I'd've gone crazy, in spades! :) Thank you, ladies, for all your cheerleading and your great beta work/suggestions. :-D
> 
> Originally written for the 2013 DramioneLove Valentine's Fest at LiveJournal. Prompt #43 - Draco takes Hermione on a first date on Valentine's Day, and wackiness ensues.
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** "Harry Potter" is the property of J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. This work of fiction/art was created entirely for fun, not for profit, and no copyright infringement is intended.
> 
> * * *

**ONE KISS, TWO KISS, SLOW KISS, HOT KISS**  
  
In the wilds of Scotland, near a lake with a squid,  
Stands a castle where wizards teach magical kids.  
It is here at this school (it's called Hogwarts, you know),  
That my tale of love starts, just outside, in the snow.  
  
Here comes Draco Malfoy, a handsome young wizard,  
Who's cursing his luck—for the weather's a blizzard.  
Is this a warning from Merlin, forecasting his fate,  
Now that he's asked Granger to go out on a date?  
  
It's really quite droll that this tryst came to pass,  
For, until recent weeks, she'd thought Malfoy an ass.  
But he's shown decent traits as the months have gone by,  
Plus, she has to admit, he's not hard on the eye.  
  
You see, Voldie had snuffed it, the war was all done.  
The Dark side was vanquished—the Light side had won.  
And though Malfoy was Marked by the Dark Lord, it's true,  
He'd assisted the Order—'twas the right thing to do.  
  
An Eighth year at Hogwarts was offered to all  
Pupils whose Seventh was marred by the pall  
Of the Death Eater teachers, not one of whom  
Could've sussed out the difference 'twixt a wand and a broom.  
  
Malfoy'd been a good student ere the crap hit the fan,  
So, he'll sit for his N.E.W.T.s—that was his grand plan.  
Thus, he came back to Hogwarts with nary a pal,  
Since most of his cohorts are locked up in gaol.  
  
Well, Hermione's friends were all done with _their_ schooling;  
They've all become Aurors—even Neville. (No fooling!)  
 _She_ wanted her N.E.W.T.s, though, no matter what.  
So, she went back to school in the fall, at a trot.  
  
The two share every class, day in and day out.  
And she'd fully expected to scream and to shout  
At her arrogant, ivory-haired classmate on sight,  
But she didn't have to: he was rather contrite.  
  
For the absence of Weasel and that speccy git Potter,  
Gave Malfoy the chance to do what he oughta—  
He apologized to Granger, said, "Sorry 'bout that.  
I know that I used to be kind of a prat."  
  
At first, she had scoffed. "You think? Perhaps just a bit?  
You were more than a prat. You were really a shit.  
You treated me badly, me and all of my blood—  
Yet… you didn't reveal us when I'd feared that you would."  
  
She gazed at him intently, thought of that day from Hell.  
He'd _known_ it was Harry, but he still didn't tell.  
"You didn't give in, and for that I am grateful.  
It isn't your fault that your aunt was so hateful."  
  
He shook his head mutely, looking into her eyes.  
 _They are beautifully warm_ , he thought with surprise.  
"I wanted to help you," he said with a blurt.  
"It was awful to stand there and watch you get hurt."  
  
She startled them both when she shushed him and said,  
"Look, if you'd interfered, we all would be dead.  
You _did_ help and you bought us some time to escape.  
And that saved me from death or, even worse, rape."  
  
He held onto the railing as the moving stairs rumbled.  
"I'm glad you survived." He blushed as he mumbled.  
She put her hand on his and she whispered quite clearly,  
"Thank you, Draco; you're sweet. I mean that sincerely."  
  
His silvery gaze met hers in that moment;  
His heart gave a flutter; feelings started to foment.  
With a shy little smile, she forgave him completely.  
Then, she bustled away. She was blushing quite sweetly.  
  
Weeks passed before Malfoy admitted the fact,  
That he lusted for Granger. Was she good in the sack?  
Had she even had sex? Should he ask? Would she slap him?  
Just the _thought_ of a smack made him tingle and grin.  
  
So, he sneakily asked questions, to find out if she  
And the Weasel are dating, or if she's single as he?  
She saved him some trouble by confessing one day,  
"Ron and I are just friends; I don't love him that way."  
  
Upon hearing her status, his heart skipped and leapt,  
She was single! Not taken! He just about wept  
With joy at the prospect of being her beau,  
But could he win her heart? Malfoy didn't know.  
  
Yes, he secretly wants her—who would have thought it?  
If there is a Love Flu, somehow Malfoy has caught it.  
He tries not to seem desperate or awfully inept  
When he asks Granger out. To his delight, she accepts!  
  
On this Valentine's Day, their date is for brunch  
(The meal that is sandwiched 'twixt breakfast and lunch).  
He'd have liked to do dinner, but that would have meant  
Dining in the Great Hall with every other student.  
  
That simply won't do: he wants her alone.  
He doesn't like sharing—as you might have known.  
They need time to get close, for he hopes he will find  
That his feelings for her are what she feels, in kind.  
  
So, here he is now, outside on the grounds.  
He wants to impress her, and as strange as it sounds,  
He knows he can't do that with money or power  
But perhaps he can woo her with ice-crystal flowers?  
  
He casts _Orchideous frio_ , and to his smug glee  
Snowy-white, fragile flowers of ice come to be.  
He gathers an armload as she comes down the path  
They even smell lovely, like he's just had a bath.  
  
As he turns 'round to greet her, the wind gives a blow,  
And he falls on his arse, rolling into the snow.  
The daisies are crushed as he struggles to rise,  
Embarrassed and soaking, he daren't meet her eyes.  
  
Granger's laughing at him, of that he's quite clear,  
Though she's covering her mouth hoping that he won't hear.  
"Oh my gosh, you poor thing. I'm sorry, Draco,  
But you look awfully funny all covered in snow."  
  
She draws her own wand and casts a charm upon him  
That dries him off nicely and warms up his skin.  
"I don't mean to laugh," she says, giggling still,  
"I'd never have thought that you'd take such a spill."  
  
For a moment he's grumpy—his gift's crushed to crumbs!  
All because he was clumsy and fell on his bum.  
How can he impress her when he is a klutz?  
Perhaps she's a sucker for men with sore butts?  
  
She continues to talk, and what she says next  
Makes him somewhat glad he almost broke his neck:  
"Malfoy, I think you are quite graceful and sleek.  
During Quidditch, I've always liked watching you Seek."  
  
Her endearing chuckle causes him to feel frisky.  
"My tailbone is broken. Care to cast an Episkey?"  
He smirks as he says this and she turns rather pink;  
Granger's cute when she blushes. He gives her a wink.  
  
Once again he feels bold; his quick wits recovered,  
'Twas for only a moment that his esteem was smothered.  
He offers his hand and asks, "Ready to go?  
Let's head into town and get out of the snow."  
  
With her gloved hand in his, they trudge down the road;  
Hogsmeade seems farther away since it's snowed.  
Through the kneecap-high drifts, Malfoy makes a neat path;  
Melting snow with his wand, he cuts a wide swath.  
  
As they enter the village, the snow turns to sleet.  
They look forward to sitting inside in the heat.  
He confidently leads her right up to the door  
Of Puddifoot's Tea Shop (he's been there before).  
  
He opens the door and ushers Granger inside,  
But alas! It is time for more wounds to his pride!  
The tables are _full_ —Madam's forgotten he'd made  
A reservation for elevensies; "We're booked, I'm afraid."  
  
Granger's stomach and his both growl together,  
Draco stares, flummoxed, out at the foul weather.  
Hermione, not liking to see him despair,  
Says, "Let's go to Rosmerta's. There's always room there."  
  
The Three Broomsticks it is. They do have good grub  
And privacy nooks—it's a welcoming pub.  
He gulps and quietly prays the bar owner  
Won't recall he'd cursed her; Gods, he'd pulled such a boner!  
  
They enter the tavern, Draco hiding behind  
Hermione's hair, hoping Rosie's gone blind.  
But Madam Rosmerta spies the blond from afar  
And shrieks at him loudly, "GET OUT OF MY BAR!"  
  
Draco ducks as a flagon smashes into the wall—  
Rosmerta has chucked it, full of lager and all!  
He's soaked head to foot and smelling of hops,  
Hermione scowls. Rosie sees her and stops.  
  
"Honestly, Madam, can't you just let him be?"  
With hands on her hips, Granger's a sight to see.  
"I'm sorry, Hermione, but that Malfoy tool  
 _Imperio'_ ed me in your Sixth year at school."  
  
"I know that he did, but I happen to know,  
That he asked your forgiveness over one year ago.  
Now, he's made his amends and there's no need to fear.  
So, please give us lasagna and two Butterbeers!"  
  
Thus chastened, the barkeeper bustles away  
To gather their meals and their drinks on a tray.  
Draco dries himself off, though he smells like a still;  
It was not even good beer — just left-over swill!  
  
Granger doffs cloak and scarf as she walks to a booth;  
Draco watches her bum even though it's uncouth.  
She doesn't know… yet, but her hips sway a lot.  
(Perhaps she DOES know that her arse makes him hot!)  
  
They arrive at their nook and he hangs up their furs.  
She asks him which side of the booth he prefers.  
He wants to face into the room, he decides,  
When seated, he jumps, as in beside him she slides!  
  
Though he's taken aback, he's also quite pleased  
That she likes him enough to knock elbows and knees.  
She asks, "Do you mind? I just like to keep tabs,  
On who enters the room." Which deflates him, a tad.  
  
He's made a mistake—he thought she wanted to flirt,  
But she's merely cautious and keeping alert.  
He's quite disappointed. He fears that he's fluffed it  
With all of his gaffs. If she had interest, he's snuffed it.  
  
Then, Rosmerta appears with a large, laden tray  
That she lays on the table and bids them good day.  
Hermione spreads out their food with quick work  
And then offers to him a big bite from her fork.  
  
He takes a quick glance and espies on her face  
A sly, saucy grin that holds a large trace  
Of flirtatious fun, with a dollop of spice.  
Perhaps she DOES like him! Oh, that would be nice.  
  
He leans over to take the food into his mouth,  
When it's her turn, she winks; all his blood rushes south.  
Her pretty pink lips look so juicy and sweet,  
It's her, not the pasta, that Draco wants to eat.  
  
They chat and they chuckle and they start to relax  
They're thoroughly enjoying their date to the max.  
The more he learns of her, the more he decides  
That she is the one; someday she'll be his bride.  
  
They continue to dine, feeding each other bites,  
And sipping their drinks; everything's going right.  
He slips his hand over and caresses her thigh,  
She gives a soft shiver and then a soft sigh.  
  
She tilts her face toward him with an expression of bliss,  
He thinks, _This is it! We are going to kiss!_  
BUT THEN… the door of the pub opens up with a crash,  
And in come Thing One and Thing Two at a dash.  
  
Potter and Weasel look all 'round the tavern.  
Draco hopes they are hidden in their little cavern.  
But alas, her friends see them and come at a run.  
Ron yells, "How can you sit here with this bum?"  
  
Potter tries to stop Weasel, who continues to shout;  
He's annoyed with his friend, there isn't a doubt.  
He's not on Weasel's side, he's not such a jackass,  
But still, he can't stop the git from being crass.  
  
Weasel's angry at Granger and he wants her to leave;  
He cares not a whit that Draco's been reprieved  
By Kingsley himself, the Minister of Magic.  
If Hermione dates Draco, "it all will turn tragic."  
  
Draco angrily glares at the red-headed schmuck.  
Will their date end in failure because of this fuck?  
He's concerned that Hermione will be swayed by her friend,  
Will then change her mind and put things to an end.  
  
Weasel's huffing and puffing, his face has turned puce,  
When suddenly Hermione starts to give him the deuce.  
She tells him to stuff it and he leans into Harry;  
They both cower back—she's really quite scary.  
  
Hermione stands up. "I'll date whom I wish,  
And Draco's quite clever, so smart and delish!  
If he'll have me, I'm his," she says with a nod.  
Then, she holds them at wand-point and gives them a prod.  
  
"I love you both dearly, my surrogate brothers,  
But I'd hex you both badly if I had my druthers.  
Get out of here. Now! And learn to adjust.  
I'm going to kiss Draco, turn your backs if you must!"  
  
They run from the pub, quite afraid of her ire,  
Hermione _would_ curse them. She isn't a liar.  
With a toss of her hair, she dispels Draco's fog,  
By pressing her lips to his in a fiery snog.  
  
Her tongue touches his, tasting and giving;  
He accepts her completely— _finally_ he is living!  
This first kiss they share shows him what he wants now,  
She'll be part of his life from here on, is his vow.  
  
She pulls away slowly, her eyes searching his face,  
And she grins before conjuring a hankie with lace.  
"Spit!" she demands, and he moistens the cloth.  
Then she dabs at his chin to remove pasta sauce.  
  
"You've been lovely, Draco. I've had a great time,  
Despite the false starts and the talking in rhyme.  
Next time, why don't I choose what we're going to do?  
I've some tricks up my sleeve that are sure to please you."  
  
He smiles and swoops in for another hot kiss,  
"I'm all for you planning our next lovers' tryst."  
She nods in agreement and nibbles his lip,  
And he draws her in close with his hand on her hip.  
  
My story is finished. It is here we'll leave our  
Favourite couple, snuggled up in their bower.  
They've given us proof that real love can shine,  
Through thick and through thin, with one's true Valentine.  
  
 _ **~ FIN ~**_


End file.
